


evermore

by nectarwrites



Series: hannigram country AU [4]
Category: Charlie Countryman (2013), Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Established Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, Fluff and Humor, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, Hannibal Lecter is a Softie, Hannibal Lecter is the Chesapeake Ripper, M/M, Nigel exists for one purpose and that’s to flirt with Will and irritate Hannibal, Not Canon Compliant, Will Graham Knows, Will Graham Loves Hannibal Lecter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:08:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28036692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nectarwrites/pseuds/nectarwrites
Summary: Hannibal Lecter is a bridezilla. Will just wants to keep Hannibal out of jail and Nigel wants to ruffle his twin’s feathers. Can this wedding happen without a hitch?the final installment in the hannigram country au series. it’s recommended you read the others because this deviates from season 2.
Relationships: Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham
Series: hannigram country AU [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1827718
Comments: 2
Kudos: 61





	evermore

“Lowkey. Baby, lowkey. Do you know what that means?” Will asked, dragging his hands down his face.

Hannibal scoffed. “Don’t ask such an obtuse question, darling, it does not compliment the deep and expansive intelligence I know you possess. Now, excuse me for a moment while I grab something that will better help us plan.” 

“More like something to help you,” Will teased. “Don’t wake Nigel up!” Will added as an afterthought. The Romaninan was a force to be reckoned with when disturbed from his rest. Will refilled their glasses of kombucha margarita, laughing at the memory of Hannibal mocking Nigel’s sleeping habits. He had told Will that Nigel needed his beauty sleep. The Romanian remarked that if Hannibal got more sleep, then he wouldn’t look the way he does.

Behind him, Hannibal pointedly cleared his throat. “I believe this—” he dropped a bulging leatherbound notebook onto Will’s lap before plopping back down on the sofa. “Will make you eat your words.”

Wide-eyed, Will inspected the journal. “Hannibal… is this a wedding scrapbook? Like a planner people start as a kid to plan their dream wedding?” 

Hannibal’s face scrunched in a way that Will could only decipher as sheepishness. “Well, when you say it like that, no. This is simply a book with detailed suggestions regarding flowers, potential venues and a tailor for our suits. It is also worth mentioning that I have only had this since the day we met in the office and not from my childhood.” 

Will felt his heart melt at Hannibal’s confession. He climbed onto his fiance’s lap, smothering his face in kisses. Hannibal kissed Will back then turned him away, tightening his arms around Will’s waist. “While I am a glutton for your kisses, mylimasis. We must finish a certain amount of planning today to stay on schedule.” He pressed a kiss to the back of Will’s neck to quiet his muttered protest.

“Now, roses or daisies?”

*

“You realize he’s gonna kill someone?” Nigel questioned, wiping his sweaty forehead before shoving another pile of snow.

“He wouldn’t. Plus, he promised the dining menu would be human-free. And you know how he is about his promises.” Will sipped at his hot chocolate. 

Nigel stopped shoveling and leaned against the barn wall. “Eh, that’s different. He can still kill people but he can’t serve them. All it takes is for the baker to slightly deter from Hanni’s instructions and boom he’s dead.” He took the offered mug from Will’s hand. “I don’t think you realize how much this wedding means to him. It has to live up to his standards.”

“Shit,” Will muttered. He smacked Nigel’s hand away from his half of the frosted gingerbread cookies. “That means he’ll kill anyone who poses a threat to that, doesn’t it?”

Nigel’s mocking laugh answered him.

“And I believe he’s unaware that he can’t have an extravagant wedding, ‘cause y’know he’s a criminal on the run.”

Will sighed. 

  
  


*

Will trudged into the kitchen, the aroma of peppermint caressing his nose. Hannibal stood at the counter, chopping hard pieces of chocolate. Hearing Will’s hesitant footsteps, he looked up and greeted him with a small smile.

“Hello, dear, there’s a fresh kettle of milk tea on the stove. I think I am about finished with my fudge peppermint bark if you’d like some with your tea.”

Will nodded, sticking his hands into his pajama pockets. “Can I talk to you about something?” 

“Of course, but I recommend you eat some of the bark before that mongrel gets his paws on it.”

Hannibal’s recommendation prompted a sigh from Will as he knew his fiance was going on the defense using his aversion tactic of food on Will. 

“Darlin’, you do know that this wedding can’t be over the top. We can’t attract attention to ourselves.”

Hannibal hummed. “Ah, yes. In your words, keeping it lowkey.”

“Yes! So you do understand.”

“It has to be lowkey.”

Will laughed and squeezed Hannibal’s cheeks before pressing a huge, sloppy kiss on his lips. Nigel was wrong and his doubts were mispl—

“However, I don’t know why you keep reiterating that. Everything we’ve planned so far is not over the top.”

Will’s jaw dropped. “Hannibal. Having a tailor make six suits because you want us to have multiple outfit 

changes is over the top. A gilted wedding cake is over the top. What’s next one of us riding in on a horse like Prince Charming?” Will laughed, trying to lighten the mood. But he fell silent at Hannibal’s wonderstruck expression.

“Baby, no. No one is making an entrance to our wedding on horseback.”

Hannibal pouted.

“No!”

“Then what’s the point of us housing four beautiful, expensive, and  _ capable _ horses in the stable?” 

“They’re our only method of transportation besides Nigel’s motorcycle. Plus, we need them for farm work.”

Hannibal huffed. “Your comments will be reviewed. Any further suggestions should be annotated in our notebook.”

If Hannibal wanted to get sassy, then Will would give it right back. After all, Will was trying to keep Hannibal out of prison and the wedding was already a risk. A risk that increased with each unnecessary, fancy detail Hannibal added.

Will opened his mouth, a smartass remark on the tip of his tongue but Nigel interrupted him.

“Hanni, the band manager is on the phone.”

“He’s a  _ conductor.  _ Not a manager. And they are a  _ symphony _ .”

“Band, symphony, same thing. A group of people playing music together. My fucking point—”

“Wait! Hannibal, you did  _ not  _ hire a symphony.”

“Of course I did. Every wedding has musicians.”

“A singer! Emphasis on the singular! Not an entire symphony! Tell them nevermind because they will  _ not  _ be performing.”

A biting cold seeped into Hannibal’s voice. “I’m trying to plan a proper celebration for us and you don’t care. Just because you grew up poor, that does not mean every expensive thing is superfluous.” 

The phone slipped out of Nigel’s limp hold. Their dog and kitten went quiet, making the crowded kitchen fall into silence. 

“Shit,” Nigel mumbled under his breath. 

A choked gasp blocked bitter, angry words from spilling out of Will’s trembling lips. Instead, he shook his head, a bitter smile on his lips as he grabbed his leather jacket and keys. Then he slammed the front door, the glass rattling as a picture frame fell off the wall.

Hannibal stared at the doorway. “What have I done?”

And despite all of the times he’s cracked jokes and poked fun at Hannibal about Will and everything else under the sun, Nigel was speechless.

*

Will hurled another rock at the water, watching it skip over each wave.

If he was the man he was a year ago, he would’ve retaliated in an insane manner. One would think that the cold fury flooding his veins would have refused to cool down until he paid Hannibal back the favor with a knife in his stomach. Yet, both Will and Hannibal knew better. Where physical pain is Hannibal’s specialty of violence, emotional hurt was Will’s. God knows all it would take was for Will to bring up Mischa and before he knows what happened, he’d be in Abigail’s spot. Or maybe Will would have avoided retaliation, choosing to permanently close his doors to Hannibal. Both would hurt the killer just the same.

But Will wasn’t the feral man fighting on the cliff or the shell of one like he was in Wolf Trap. Which is why he removed himself before he could say something that would set the fractured teacup aflame. After all, you can’t bring something back together when it’s in ashes. It’s why he’s hurling stones at the water for exposing truths he didn’t want to know.

“Smoke?” Nigel held out a cigarette, pulling his knees close to his chest as he settled next to Will against the tree. Upon his nod, he lit the cigarette hanging out of Will’s mouth.

“He didn’t mean it. But I know you know that.” 

Will chuckled coldly. “Which part? Me not caring about our relationship or bringing up my childhood struggle?”

Nigel bumped their shoulders, raising an eyebrow.

Will’s red-rimmed eyes rolled skywards. “Why are you even out here? Did he send you to play therapist?” He exhaled the smoke.

“I’m out here because I like you. All three of us, hell, anyone who’s ever crossed paths with me knows I’m not anybody’s fucking errand boy. You’re a good person, copil.”

Will snorts. “Tell me, Nigel. Does a good person abandon his duty for a man who has hurt him on so many levels, a criminal? Am I a good person for helping a serial killing cannibal elude imprisonment because I don’t want him to go through what I went through? Even though he’s the one who got me locked up?” He turned towards Nigel, his watery eyes pleading for the answer that has eluded him since he decided to never return to America.

Nigel smiled knowingly, his thumb brushing Will’s tears away. “They’re not good things, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t a good person. Will, you’re in love with him. That’s what a lovesick person does. They protect their loved one, even if that person has done them wrong. We are all mixed with good and bad, no one can solely be one or the other.”

Will didn’t respond but he didn’t fight Nigel linking their elbows, leading him back to the farmhouse.

“I think for once, you both need to talk this out. No symbolism or philosophizing. Just straightforward, plain as day words.”

*

The sound of the door creaking open made Hannibal sharply inhale. He felt like he was back in his office, bloodied and hurt that he’d never again see Will alive, only for his breath to be taken away when Will walked through the door with Jack. Only, now he’s walking in with Nigel, hurt by Hannibal instead of Tobias.

“Just like y’all don’t pay me to shovel animal shit, I don’t get paid to be a therapist. Talk it out like a normal couple and fix it. Because if Will doesn’t become my brother-in-law, I’m gonna kill someone.” Nigel tucked Mila in his arms and Bodhi followed them upstairs.

Hannibal shakily stood from his spot on the couch. “Mylimasis, I didn’t mean what I said. I swear it to you.”

“I don’t care about you coming at me for growing up poor. I’m hurt and furious that you dare to think that I don’t care about our relationship.

“Darling—”

“No!” Will squeezed his eyes shut, clenching his fists before exhaling the coiled anger out. “It is so damn obvious how much I care. Everytime I say no to one of your ideas I always say how it’ll cast attention on us. Not once have I said no because of its cost. My rejection stems from my concern about your possible capture. To me, that means I care about you more than anything.”

“Can I, can I touch you?” Hannibal asked, a shaky hand hovering over Will’s shoulder. He pulled Will close to his chest after the man nodded. 

“I know you care about us. I believe my problem is I never thought I would experience this; therefore, I am obsessed with paying a respectful tribute to all that I have put you through and everything we went through together and separately to get to where we are right now. I know that does not excuse the hurtful, uncalled for words that I was so quick to hurl at you but that is where they came from.”

Hannibal’s hand stopped rubbing circles on Will’s neck, the older man seemingly searching for something. “ I am deeply sorry, my love.”

And for the second time since he’s met Hannibal, Will said “I forgive you.”

Peering over the top of the bannister, Nigel whispered to Mila and Bodhi. “For a doctor and a star FBI profiler, they’re pretty slow.”

*

The weeks passed by without major discourse but tension was simmering between the three men. Hannibal didn’t know that but the other two did. Hannibal’s insistence that everyone stick to the schedule drove Will and Nigel up the wall. The latter two snuck out late at night to the lake or barn, sharing a nicely sized bottle of liquor to ease their frayed nerves.

One afternoon saw Hannibal,Will, and Nigel crowded together on the couch. Hannibal was narrowing their list of venues, or trying to at least. Will was profiling shady priests, determining who they could get rid of after they married them. Nigel, who was supposed to be looking at photographers, kept interrupting to argue with Will about some series they finished watching. Hannibal bit his lip, he didn’t want to disturb their bonding but a part of him was ready to let Nigel have it. Internally, he sighed. Long gone were the days he possessed more control over his limited spectrum of emotions. Will and Nigel were the only people in the world who could make him feel so much but Will did it pleasurably.

“Beloved, how about the vineyard?” 

“I think—”

“They are canon because in Spanish it meant that he feels the same way,” Nigel interjected, throwing his legs onto Will’s lap.

Hannibal huffed. “If not the vineyard, then that one cliff that overlooks the sea? Oh, don’t you think that would be lovely?”

“They’re not canon, Nigel! It was the same episode just dubbed in Spanish.”

“Will?”

“What I’m hearing is that you only think something is official if it’s in English? That Spanish isn’t as important?”

“Love, did you hear—”

“You’re twisting my words. Hannibal, I think the cliff—”

“You’re the one who—”

“Nigel, would you silence your mouth? If we get behind schedule because of your nonsense, then I swear we will be having you for dinner.”

Will sighed, at least Hannibal learned his lesson a few weeks ago and didn’t say anything hurtful.

“One would think you’d be averse to eating another sibling.”

Hannibal flinched. However, no tears or chilled words came from him. That’s when Will knew that Hannibal had averted to his primary defense of withdrawing. The blinds to his memory palace were being drawn, the doors locked and the candles blown out. The man was left wandering the palace shrouded in darkness. Outwardly, Hannibal gently placed the planner in Will’s arms and made his way upstairs.

“Copil—”

Will threw up a hand and followed his fiancé.

“Darlin’,” Will whispered, curling his body around Hannibal’s back. He left a trail of kisses down his neck. “Come join me here? Don’t stray where I can’t follow.” 

“You’re always in my head, mylimasis,” Hannibal murmured, turning over to face Will. He wiggled his head in the crook of Will’s neck, throwing a leg over his body.

“What do you need me to do?” 

“Stay with me.”

Will smiled. “Where else would I go?”

*

Hannibal eventually pulled himself out of bed, tugging Will downstairs with him like a child dragging their beloved teddy bear. He made a simple dinner of french onion soup and steak. Their clinking silverware and glasses were the only sounds. Nigel calmly sipped his whiskey, ignoring Will’s pointed looks and fake coughs. Hannibal’s hand absentmindedly played with Will’s.

Will landed a sharp kick on Nigel’s leg, making the Romanian choke on his drink. 

“Alright, fucking alright! Hannibal, I regret bringing her up. I knew better than to do that. I’m sorry.”

“All is forgiven.”

*

Somehow, they managed to stay on schedule and the morning of the wedding came fast.

“That looks nothing like the knot Hannibal did.” Will’s eyes narrowed.

“Do I fucking look like Hannibal?” Nigel hotly asked, roughly yanking the knot apart. “Wait, don’t answer that.”

“Hell, what was the name of the damn knot?”

Will shrugged. “I don’t know. I zoned out when we took a break after his hands tightened the tie around my neck.”

Nigel cursed in Romanian and dropped the tie. He rubbed his temple. “You two freaks are perfect for each other. Still, I don’t want to hear that.” 

The ex-profiler chuckled, picking up the tie before closing his eyes. His hands flawlessly recreated the knot Hannibal had shown him the night before from.

“I couldn’t believe he suggested that we sleep separately.”

“I think it’s the superstition mixing with his fear of something going wrong,” Nigel said, offering his elbow.

Will linked their elbows and Nigel began leading him down the aisle. “I look forward to hearing your speech,” Will whispered. He grinned at the ethereal sight of Hannibal in a white three-piece suit, his dark grey hair gelled to the side. 

Nigel winked. “You’ll love it.” He handed Will off to Hannibal.

“Do you, Hannibal Lecter, take Will Graham as your husband—”

“I do.”

And do you, Will Graham, take Hannibal Lecter as your husband to love—”

“I do.”

The priest shakily exhaled. “I now pronounce you, Will Graham and Hannibal Lecter as husband and husband. You may kiss the groom.”

Nigel wolf-whistled as the newly wedded couple shared a heated kiss.

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
